


facade peeled like a sunburn

by boneclaws



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: AU - Phineas and Charity are platonic soulmates, Anal Sex, Banter, Barebacking, Bottom!Phineas, Established Relationship, Fingering, M/M, PWP, Riding, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 21:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17373611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boneclaws/pseuds/boneclaws
Summary: PWP. Phineas finds out firsthand why it is Phillip was known as "a bit of a scandal".





	facade peeled like a sunburn

“You know,” Phineas started, fingers brushing the hair at Phillip’s temple, “Charity told me you were a bit of a scandal.”

Phillip, on his end, found it difficult not to laugh. “Did she?”

“Oh, yeah.” Lying nude on his side in Phillip’s bed, callused fingers stroking Phillip’s scalp and ruffling his hair out of place, Phineas gave him a smile both lethargic and bright. Eager. He squirmed just a bit, chest pressing up into Phillip’s equally naked side. “You were at my goddaughter’s ballet recital, we saw you across the room, and she told me just that.”

Phillip hummed thoughtfully, the arm slung loosely over Phineas’ waist tightening its grip enough to pull him closer. “Did you believe her?” he asked, head tilting down and to the side to look at him. Phineas’ hand moved from Phillip’s hair down to the edge of his jaw where his stubble was coming in, and his index finger fiddled with the lobe of his ear.

“You were drinking quite a bit,” Phineas whispered conspiratorially.

“It was a weekend,” Phillip answered promptly.

“You drank even more when I took you out.”

“ _You_ took _me_ out? I’m sorry; did you forget who paid for whom?”

Phineas was laughing then, and Phillip found it impossible not to bask in it. “That doesn’t change the point.”

“Which is?”

“You’re known by the most hoity-toity people in town for being a raging alcoholic, and _still_ you have a better reputation than me.”

“You think I’m a scandal for the drinking?”

“I absolutely do.”

So Phillip moved, nudging Phineas back into the mattress, his head settling nicely on the pillows above. He pulled his arm from underneath him, pressed his hand to his belly, and then smiled as Phineas’ stomach went tight under his touch before relaxing once more.

“It wasn’t the drinking,” Phillip said. His index finger stroked a circle around Phineas’ navel, the touch enough to make him shiver in ticklishness. “Though I’ll say it _did_ add to the image. Who’d watch a play about misery if the playwright wasn’t drowning in whiskey?”

Phineas snorted, crows’ feet up by his eyes. “You rich folk believe the strangest things.”

“I thought the same about you, Prince of Humbug.”

Phillip’s nail slowly dragged down the curls beneath Phineas’ belly button, and in perfect tandem Phineas’ hips rose, his body a canvas for Phillip’s finger to colour. Pink ran over his skin where his nail went, and then Phillip was leaning over to give Phineas a kiss, his tongue parting his lips and leading Phineas to give another insistent rock of his hips.

“God,” Phineas huffed when the kiss broke, “don’t tell me…”

“Tell you what?” Phillip mused, his nails moving over the meat of Phineas’ thigh until he could move around it, palm grasping the underside.

“You were a scandal because of—”

“Hm?”

“Because—” Phillip lifted his thigh and Phineas laughed, his knee bending to knock his ankle lightly into Phillip’s shoulder. “Oh, God. It’s because of sex, isn’t it!”

Though he attempted to play nonchalance, the smile pulling at the corners of Phillip’s mouth was unmistakable. “ _Is_ it?”

“You were a playboy!” Phineas chirped, reaching up to grip Phillip’s jaw in one hand. His fingers dug into his cheeks, Phillip’s lips puckering from the pressure. “Of _course_! The young heir with his plays and his dark whiskey, acting cynical and looking for something to light his life up, bringing a new woman to bed every night with the same line—”

“I’m sorry,” Phillip interjected, pulling back in one motion and biting back a laugh. “’The same line’? How could you _possibly_ know what I said?”

“Well.” Phineas’ hand landed on the space above his head instead, palm face-up. “I don’t know what you _said_ , but I’m sure it was the same old story and the same old con, and every woman up and down the streets of Manhattan went and spread her legs for you…”

“I got _you_ to spread your legs for me.”

“That’s different! You didn’t seduce me. I had to do most of the legwork, here.” Phineas emphasised this with a tightening of his thigh where Phillip was still holding it. Amused, Phillip gave the side of his knee a kiss before starting to trail along Phineas’ leg, but Phineas wasn’t to be deterred. “I was deprived of the Phillip Carlyle experience. A sore injustice, might I add, given I’m the greatest lover you’ve ever had.”

Phillip grinned into Phineas’ thigh. “I never said that.”

“Oh, you drag me up to fuck me almost every night. I’m _definitely_ the greatest.”

Phillip had to give him that, and he nipped lightly at Phineas’ skin before kissing the line between hip and leg. “You just taste so good.”

“Is that what you tell all the girls?” Phineas teased, one hand finding his own chest to pinch and play and roll between fingers.

Below, Phillip’s breath was warm. “No,” was what he murmured, kissing towards the swell of Phineas’ balls and brushing his lips gently over them—enough to make him shiver. “None of them needed a ‘so’ to come.”

“But I do?”

Phillip kissed the base of Phineas’ prick, and like clockwork, felt as Phineas’ muscles tightened in response. Felt as he shivered, felt the way Phineas’ thigh jumped in his hold as he realised Phillip’s mouth was moving towards the pucker between his cheeks instead.

“I’m trying to say no-one’s tasted as good as you.”

Seeing Phineas’ belly flex, he knew immediately that he’d swallowed.

“…you’re talking about my asshole.”

Phillip smiled, kissing the pink muscle in question. “You know, the Phillip Carlyle experience involves making you come with just my tongue.”

And with that, the tip of his tongue circled him just before pressing in to tease.

Phineas’ breath caught in his throat, and Phillip hummed in pleasure as he felt the mattress beneath them shift with his squirming. One hand found his hair, sliding through it and ruining it that much more. Phillip chuckled, breath hot, and Phineas’ hips ran in a circle just as Phillip pressed a sucking kiss to his twitching hole.

“You’re serious?” Phineas huffed, trying to sound disbelieving, but his whining gave him away. So Phillip grinned, squeezing Phineas’ thigh before putting his leg back down, and got up just so he could cock his chin upward with both brows raised. “Turn around, Phin.”

“What, hands and knees?”

“I like how you don’t have to ask.”

Phineas let out a surprised little laugh at that, but Phillip watched as he shifted, watched as his hands pressed to the mattress, watched as the bed dipped under his palms and knees. Phineas looked over his shoulder without hesitation, brow raised in challenge. “This good enough for you, Carlyle?”

Phillip swatted the meat of Phineas’ ass, palm flat as it slid over the small of his back. His fingers curled to drag his nails up his spine and gently grip the nape of his neck.

“Almost.”

Then he pressed Phineas’ shoulders to the bed with a dull thump, relishing the push of his cheek into the pillow and the way his hips were still raised in the air, the way Phineas’ breath caught and he shivered as Phillip’s hands caressed the muscles of his back and the subtle curves of his sides.

He watched Phineas’ spine arch and the graceful push of his ass. “Mm,” Phillip purred, palms cupping each cheek to spread them apart. “So much better.”

But before Phineas could speak, Phillip was pressing the flat of his tongue to him and drawing an _oh_ from his mouth instead. Phineas trembled as Phillip licked two stripes up, and that was just as well; the tip of his tongue pressed into his hole just enough for a taste, and he heard himself groan just as he caught Phineas’ hand moving to grip the pillow and knead it.

“Like that?” he asked, sucking gently at Phineas’ hole and earning an impatient buck of hips in response.

“You don’t have to ask!”

“I don’t know, you were _so_ eager to talk earlier…”

“That was _before_ you put your face down there! Now _give_.”

For all his bravado, however, Phineas flinched when Phillip spat into his hole. Then he let out a cry once Phillip’s thumbs spread him open and his tongue curled and teased without quite pressing in. Phineas was tight around him, perfect, and Phillip flicked his tongue in only to earn the insistent backward nudge of Phineas’ body and an absolutely delicious whine.

Phillip gripped either side of his hips to hold him steady, lapping with all the luxury of savouring, and Phineas was shaking, moaning (soft _oh_ s, sweet and sinful), thrusting as much as Phillip’s restraint would allow.

The man always _was_ terrible about patience.

So Phillip pointed his tongue enough to fuck into him, and _that_ —Phineas’ shoulders lifted, his forehead pressed to the pillow and a noise of pure delight leaving him—seemed to be good enough. He drew back and forth, tongue pressing to the twitching walls of his hole, and Phineas panted and huffed and reached down to grip his prick, flushed and hard and rosy at the tip.

Phillip sucked and Phineas groaned. Phillip brought a slight drag of lower teeth and Phineas gasped his name and squeezed his dick harder.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want to come,” Phillip whispered, each word leaving Phineas shaking with sensitivity.

“It’s not that good,” Phineas lied.

So Phillip sucked his middle finger wet with spit and pressed it up into his hole.

“Oh, God!”

With Phillip releasing his other hip, Phineas squirmed and rocked on Phillip’s finger with urgency—riding it, clenching around it, shuddering when it didn’t _move_. But Phillip was reaching for the dresser to pull a bottle of massage oil out, and with his fingers clumsily getting the cap off, he poured a good amount along the line of Phineas’ ass. Wet now, slick now, his middle finger fucked the oil in, and when Phillip pulled it out it was only so he could push his tongue in in turn.

“Jesus—oh, _Jesus_ , Phillip, _ah_.” Phineas’ knees were shaking now, trembling as Phillip’s tongue moved up and down, curling within him and licking him and forcing him open. His thumb traced the rim of Phineas’ hole before pushing, _spreading_ , and Phineas _moaned_ for it—moaned as his knees spread apart and his hips dipped. Hole loose enough for Phillip to slide his tongue in deep, his lips pressed to Phineas’ pucker and he did just that: pushed in, curled up, coated his tongue with Phineas’ taste and listened with delight at the broken sounds his efforts brought about.

Echoing in the bedroom was filth, pure and simple—sounds of Phineas whining, of the slippery noises of Phillip’s mouth and tongue, of the light squeak of the mattress every time Phineas thrusted back and rode Phillip’s face with determination. He was close now, Phillip could tell; despite Phineas’ efforts to grip himself, hold tight, there was a clear line of pre-come staining the mattress just like every drop of oil did. Phineas groaned and rocked and Phillip’s jaw was _aching_ , but he pulled back for a breath and pushed his index and middle in to spread Phineas wide.

Phineas, in turn, flinched with _life_. “Phillip, please!”

It was impossible not to moan himself when dragging his fingers in deep had Phineas shaking, his cock throbbing dangerously as a sweet pearl of white appeared at the tip of it. Phillip drew his fingers back and forth over his prostate, his tongue licking back around the rim, and the moment he slid that back in he heard him _cry_ and watched him arch so tight Phillip almost worried he’d snap.

“That’s it,” Phineas gasped, bucking as Phillip’s fingers withdrew in a small V to keep him open, to fuck his tongue in and out and feel Phineas’ hole twitch and tremble in its shameless spreading. “Oh God, yes, yes, _yes_ \--!”

There were twin smacks as Phillip’s hands gripped Phineas’ ass and spread him open. There was a yelp as his head dipped, as his hands pulled Phineas’ hips up, as he buried his face between Phineas’ cheeks and licked him to satisfaction. Phineas writhed and shook and released his cock to grip Phillip’s hair instead and keep him from moving, and it was just like that—Phineas smothering him, Phineas trembling, Phineas crying out his _name_ —that come spurted thick and hot into the sheets beneath them, Phineas’ hole tight and sweet and the best thing Phillip had ever tasted.

Phillip was gasping for air when he pulled back, his fingers swiftly pressing into Phineas’ heat to feel him clamp and cling around them. He was panting as he kissed up Phineas’ spine, panting when he found his shoulder—

And then laughing, surprised, when Phineas pushed him off and pressed him down into the bed, a leg slinging up impatiently over his waist. “Your turn.”

Phillip barely even noticed how hard he’d become.

“Phineas,” he breathed, and after that grit his teeth as Phineas lowered himself onto him, hands burying in Phillip’s hair and hips rocking fast and hard over his straining erection. Phineas’ ass smacked against his pelvis with each thrust, his hands sliding down the sides of Phillip’s face and onto his shoulders, and as he bumped their foreheads together and whispered for Phillip to _come inside, come on, it’s not right if you don’t make me_ full _—_ he knew there wasn’t any hope for him left. His hands held Phineas’ waist as his hips froze, as he spilled, as Phineas moaned and sighed and rolled his hips to take it. With eyes wide and blown with arousal, Phillip felt a right mess. Phineas only grinned down at him just before he kissed him on his swollen lips—tasted the stupid oil, tasted Phillip’s own spit, tasted _himself_.

Phillip’s cock twitched with interest at that, and he gave a few more thrusts before Phineas’ mouth finally let him go. Like this, listening to Phineas pant and then whimper with every drag of Phillip’s prick in him, he found it impossible not to smile at him—at how good he looked when he was flushed with want, at how slick he felt inside from everything Phillip had to give him, spit and oil and hot, hot seed.

There was silence as they caught their breaths. Phillip’s arms wrapped around Phineas’ middle, and Phineas’s fingers toyed with cupping his cheeks but never did quite settle after the initial strokes over his jaw.

Soft though Phineas’ voice was, the question mumbled into the space between them was clear.

“Is that all?”

Phillip’s stomach went tight. Phineas pulled back enough Phillip could see his grin.

Then Phillip flipped them, pressing Phineas back into the mattress as he pulled his knees as high and wide apart as they could go.

“Wouldn’t be very scandalous if it was, would it?”

Phineas’ answering laughter verged up into a high moan.

**Author's Note:**

> bottom phin rights


End file.
